Certified Psycho
by Diamonds and Bones
Summary: Prowl is wounded in battle and gets rescued by a deranged neutral: his name, Jazz. Jazz is compulsive, crazy, and will not let Prowl leave. Prowl has to do whatever it takes to survive Jazz. But will he befriend Jazz in the process and change him into a better mech. I don't know. I'm really tired. Read if ya want. :P
1. Chapter 1

Prowl had woken up in many strange places, but this took the oilcake.

Prowl jerked up. Bits of debris littered the area and boxes lined the wall. It looked like he was in a storage closet one would find in autobot headquarters. He checked his chronometer and saw that he had been unconscious for two days.

He groaned when pain pierced him.

 _Think, Prowl, what happened._ It came back to him like a sack of bricks. A simple excavation had turned into a deadly battle, when the con's attacked them. Prowl remembered dodging seeker's gunfire, when he saw a huge missile head right toward him before the world exploded.

The con's must've taken him prisoner.

"Autobot base to Prowl-" he said, pressing his comm.

All he received was static. Their was no connection. Prowl growled and assessed his damage. His chronometer told him that he was severely low on energon. He got into a sitting position, groaning from the pain and assessed his body.

His paint was charred black. Wires were sticking out of his legs and half of his left leg was gone. Prowl breathed through his nose and roved his surroundings. Bit a debris littered the area. Something caught his optic.

A pole. He could use that as a walking cane and see if one of the boxes would contain something useful.

Due to his legs, he couldn't walk, so he crawled. It felt like eternity. Pain messages popped up on his hud and he deleted them all.

He had almost given up, when he heard-

"Need some help?"

Prowl froze. He hadn'd heard him enter. It must be a con' however he couldn't recognize the voice anywhere. Nor did it pop up on his scanners. Prowl lowered himself to the ground, the pole a foot away as he felt a shadow loom over him.

"I know what yer thinkin'." The voice had a weird accent, one he had definitely not heard of.

Prowl didn't respond.

"Yer thinking that yah goin' to use that pole and try tah hurt meh," said the voice. Prowl's hands shot out, before the mech grabbed him and flipped him onto his back. Prowl stared at….a neutral. The neutrals yellow optics glowed, not the signature red optics that con's had. However, the most telling was that he had no sigil.

"Tha'd be pretteh rude. After all, ah did save yah."

Prowl's optics widened, he tried to move, but it was like moving a mountain with the mech's grip, before the stranger let go. Prowl scurried to a corner before he a hit a wall. The neutral stared at him, head tilted, before he sat cross legged away from him.

"Aren't ya gonna say somethin?" Asked the neutral.

Prowl blinked, pain flashing through him.

"Th-th- thank you," Prowl said, when the neutral didn't attack. Prowl's back was to the wall, the neutral blocking his path. It unsettled him. The neutral didn't respond and Prowl coughed. "Y-your home is quite nice."

He had not heard of neutrals roaming this area of Cybertron. The neutral stared at him. It was disturbing.

"Thanks," said the mech, staring at the surroundings. "But this is tha basement-"

"The basement?"

"Sure," shrugged the mech. "I didn't want them to find you, the con's you know." He leaned in close as he said this and Prowl resisted moving back. "Besides, you wah bleeding too much. Din't want ya to ruin mah carpet. I don't want guests to think I'm crazy."

 _Guests?_ Trying to change the subject he asked. "What's your name?"

"Jazz, yers?"

Prowl gulped, still unsure if this was a decepticon ploy. "Dent."

"Nice to meet yah, Dent," Jazz said, winking at him, he grabbed Prowl's hand and shook it. Prowl hissed in pain due to his injuries. Jazz, however, didn't notice...or didn't seem to care.

Jazz seemed to think for a moment before he asked, "Can we be friends?"

Jazz siddled closer to him. "I mean ah did save ya life. Does that make us best friends."

"Sure..." said Prowl uncertainty, trying to move back. These questions were strange. When was this mech sparked? All he wanted to do was leave.

"Thas good. I've never had a friend before," Jazz said, optics wistful. "So that makes you mah best friend!"

Prowl nodded, before putting on his best commander voice.

"The autobots thank you for your service, Jazz," Prowl said, authoritatively, glancing around the room. "But is it possible you have a comm. link so that I can contact the autobots. I don't want to impede you-"

Jazz smiled. "Yer not impeding on anythin'. I really liked this sleepover."

 _Sleepover?_ He was injured. Prowl tried to school his facial expressions. This mech had to be crazy. All he had to do was remain calm and find a way to leave.

"Still," Prowl said. "They must be worried."

"Well, sorry," the mech shrugged. "I ain't got no comms."

Prowl gulped and looked around trying to find a door anywhere. How did he even get in here? "Well, is their a drug store nearby?"

"Yeah," said Jazz, inspecting his nails. Prowl noticed his nails were really sharp and covered in what looked like mech blood. "But I don't need anything from there."

"Of course," Prowl nodded, optics trained on Jazz's nails. Jazz must've been incredibly strong, he imagined the neutral could cause serious damage.

"Is it possible if I can talk to someone else?" _Saner preferably._

Jazz optic gleamed and he cocked his head. "Their's one mech here, if you'd like to meet him. But I didn't know you were into that."

Prowl blinked. Whatever it was, it was ten times better than being trapped with this mech. "Please, can you call him down?"

The mech shook his head. "Sorry, I can't."

"Why not?" asked Prowl, trying not to yell.

"I can't," Jazz lectured, rolling his shoulders. "Because I cut off his legs."

"Wha-"

Jazz moved closer, grabbing Prowl's neck and holding him close. Prowl could feel Jazz's claws go into his metal. "Then I cut off his arms. And then his neck," Jazz said. "Then I hid all the parts."

Prowl tried to calm himself down. It could be a fib. He looked around the room and saw the bar. "I-I think, I need some space-"

"Why?" asked Jazz, optics flashing. "So yah can leave me? We're friends, Dent! You promised me!"

"You're definition of friendship is very wrong," gasped Prowl. "I'll still be your friend if you allow me to leave Ja-"

"Liar!" screeched Jazz, squeezing tighter.

Prowl optics widened. He grabbed the bar and swung it to the mech. Jazz grabbed the bar unfazed, his strength was incredible, before he threw the bar to the side.

"Youre mah special friend, Prowl!" Jazz said, rising up. He pushed Prowl to the ground. Prowl gasped for air. "And rule one. You are never, ever going to leave me."


	2. Chapter 2

"So," Jazz said. "How yah doing?"

Prowl could only stare in horror. He would not respond. He would refuse to respond. Frag you Jazz. Frag you, he thought.

Jazz raised the cube of energon and held it underneath Prowl's olfactory sensors. His tanks growled, but Jazz didn't notice. "You hungry Dent," asked Jazz as if he couldn't tell. "Or should I call you Prowl?"

No answer. Jazz seemed unfazed by Prowl's lack of response. "You want tah take it? Prowler?" Jazz cocked his head to the side. "Well, I guess you can't can you, not with your hands tied behind your back and you're legs broken."

Prowl now trembled both in rage and horror. He tried to hide it, but he was scared. Jazz had tied him to a chair, hands bound behind his back as Jazz circled around him like a shark.

"But it's your fault, Prowl," Jazz continued. He laced his hands with Prowl's as he sat next to him. "You should've known I'd look you up, Prowl. After all, I don't let strangers in my house," he glanced at Prowl. "Strangers are dangerous, crazy maybe." Prowl trembled as one of Jazz's sharp claws traced patterns on his arm. "Strangers can break your spark. They can lie and try to leave you, just like you did," muttered Jazz. "But I'll teach you. Even if I need to break you Prowl, I'll teach ya to stay. After all, that's what best friends are for."

Prowl's spark sped up and he was as stiff as a board. Jazz's nails scraping against him were amplified and he felt so, so vulnerable. Break him? He did not want to see what he meant by that. Prowl planned his words carefully. He had decided on how to proceed with this, in order to get out of this very sticky situation.

"But Jazz," Prowl gave a faint smile. Better fake it, find a chance to escape. "Don't best friends trust each other?"

He looked down at his hands. "I-I feel like you don't trust me and i-if we're best friends," Prowl gave a weak smile, he tried to make it sincere but Jazz's gaze was unnerving. It was like he could see how unhinged Jazz was. "You should at least untie me, Jazz. Please?"

Jazz cocked his head and tapped his claws against his chin. "Hmm, Prowl…" His optics darted to the bound hands. "Maybe you're right Prowler."

Prowl's optics lit up, before Jazz put a finger to his lip. "But I ain't gonna untie you Prowler-"

"But-"

"Best friends can make mistakes," Jazz said. "You made many mistakes, but what differentiates best friends from regular friends are that best friends are willing to forgive each other."

Prowl's optics widened.

"You gotta earn my trust Prowler," said Jazz. "After all I've been a good friend. I saved you, gave you shelter, companionship. You need to make you trust me."

Prowl trembled as he formed his next words. "W-what do you want me to do, Jazz?" He whispered.

Jazz smiled toothly. "Well you gotta do something I like."

What he liked. Prowl just met him. Oh what did he like? Kidnapping and being a fragging lunatic? Prowl racked his brain and looked around. He liked murder, boxes, being deranged, something that Prowl had no intention of telling Jazz in case of ideas.

Then it came to him.


End file.
